Meaningful Wait

Meaningful Wait

Is connectivity killing connection?

While sitting in the doctor’s office recently, I saw a room full of people and heard a room full of DEAD SILENCE. Everyone was glued to their phone.

It made me sad and it immediately brought a memory to mind, a moment I would have missed had my phone monopolized my time. Sadly, I cannot say that my devices always takes backseat, but thankfully, they did in this HOLY GROUND MOMENT. I am inviting you into a sacred scene.

The plane had finally come to a complete stop. After several delays, running through airports, spacious and aromatic airplane “lavs” and hours of sitting, nothing sounded more appealing than HOME.

It had been several minutes since the seat belts stopped clicking, when we realized no one was moving from their seats. The plane was completely quiet, minus one cellular, ear-jarring conversation to our left. He was completely oblivious to the fact that not one other person had a phone out.

The pilot spoke over the PA system, “Thank you for your cooperation and respect in staying in your seat, as we allow the escort of a fallen soldier to exit first. We will remain on the plane until the casket reaches its transfer point.”

Cell phone man (CPM) never quit talking.

This was not the HOME COMING one family had hoped for. In a split second, every ounce of travel weariness left my body, replaced by a weeping heart manifesting in the welling up of tears. The military escort solemnly made his way down the aisle and off the plane. No longer was a soldier a far-away hero whom I thanked from a distance. I was in the middle of a HOLY GROUND MOMENT. He became MY loved one. He was a hero with a face and a family, a family I now felt a part of whom happen to be right outside my window.

I pray you pause with me in this breath.

Close your eyes and imagine rendering honors—standing at attention and saluting.

I watched as the Honor Guard received a treasure, the casket of a selfless soldier, son and saint. I watched as a family locked eyes on what was left of their loved one, the one they had made countless memories with, the one who was the melody they would carry in their hearts forever.

And CPM is still talking.

As much as I wanted to punch CPM that day, I have grown to pity him. He was so wrapped up in himself and his minor delay, that he missed the flag-wrapped masterpiece and the meaningful wait. Instead of harboring a grudge against the inconsiderate, I am choosing to learn a considerable lesson.

In the waiting rooms of life,

may we look up, before we look down to press like,

lean in and listen, before we lean out to make a call or listen to a voice mail,

lock eyes, before unlocking our screens,

and love well the faces we can touch before HEARTING the posts on FACEBOOK.

Connectivity is good, but as with any good thing, it can be misused. When connectivity causes us to over-talk sacred scenes on an airplane or overlook empathy in a waiting room, I would say something has gone terribly wrong.